Permission

I was just wishing I had more of my photos keyworded. Gosh, it would make things so much easier when I am trying to find an old image I never processed. And that prompts me to spin off into a whole series of to-do’s I never did, or finished. Sheesh. I had a productive day, though. The house looks better, finally. Kinda sorta. At least it looks better to me. I had paperwork to do and that is actually 90% finished. Last night I watched half of an hour-long podcast on creativity. I say watched–actually I half watched while I was sorting through papers on my desk, and even then, I managed only 30 minutes before I had to stop and give my full attention elsewhere. One of the questions the speaker was addressing was what stops you from creating? Several of the online participants said time, in one fashion or another. Yeah, me too. Or the sense that creativity is the reward after chores are done, which of course they never completely are. We have talked about this before, I know.  But somebody said something that I heard in a different way, somehow, and that was the phrase, Permission Slips. Give Yourself Permission. I remember permission slips–they let you go on field trips. I feel as if we have one coming at the end of the month. A Permission Slip. A Field Trip. I like the word slip, too — because I am thinking now not of a slip as in slip and fall, and not of the slip you wear under a skirt, but slipping out, slipping away, slipping through. A playful word, slip. Permission Slips. You didn’t fill them out yourself. I mean, you were not supposed to! It was for your parents to do. Your authority figures. The person in charge of you. I get the whole “give yourself permission” as an idea. Just not so much as a reality, ha! So if I came to You and asked You for a Permission Slip, what would You say? What would it say?

The Parent signs the slip. It is already filled out for whatever the permission is being sought to do. So let Me ask you–what would it say? What would you be asking My Permission for?

Oh! Oh. Well, dag, that stopped me in my tracks. Cliche intended. 

Why the cliche?

Because I miss animals. I miss wildlife. I miss being with them for more than a second, or five minutes. I miss being a part of their lives, I guess. I miss foxes. You know I miss foxes. I am going to spend the rest of my life, missing foxes.

Until you don’t.

Until I get over it, you mean.

Oh, no, I don’t mean that at all. You are not meant to “get over it.” Why would I want you to get over such a deep love?

Because it’s over. Because it’s gone.

Do you believe you still have the capacity to love another wild fox? Another wild critter?

Yes, Lord, I do.

Then your love life with the wild is not over. And while you may not see the fox you came to know so well, that does not mean your days of companionship with wildlife are over.

Really? Because I would so love that. Yes, I am eager for moments of connection–but honestly, I have been asking for moments only because–

Only because you think that is all you can hope for now. Moments. Brief glimpses, chance encounters.

Well, yes.

What if I told you your past life with your fox family was a prelude? What if I told you that experience was meant to prepare you for something even greater? Even deeper?

Are You telling me that? Because honestly, I don’t want to get my hopes up just to be disappointed. That would break my heart all over again. It is easier to be walled in, a little stoic.

But that is not honest. That is not who you are. You are so far from walled in and stoic.

God, being vulnerable, even to Your earth, it hurts, sometimes. 

And it is wildly joyous, too.

Yes, wildly joyous. That is why I miss it, I guess. 

What is happening with your little feral kitty?

Oh my goodness, she is hardly feral anymore! She lets me pick her up, she purrs loudly like a kitten, she nuzzles against me, she nuzzles against our Sheltie, it is amazing, the change in her.

Your love did that. Your trust did that. I have told you before, call the wild. Call them to come to you.

God, I called Freddi. I did. I called and walked and drove and called and wrote her a song and called some more. And she never came. I didn’t even see Patches!! I would love to meet Patches. If I can’t have Freddi, can I have Patches? I say that and then my shoulders slump. I’ve left Nags Head, left their territory. They didn’t leave me, I had to leave them. So what can I say about that? What can you say about that? What can anyone say about that?

Don’t fret, and don’t cry. Let Me restore the lost years. I happen to be very good at restoration.

Ha, yes Lord, yes You are. 

So let’s see that Permission Slip one more time.

Okay. Here goes. It says, I give Eve Turek permission to spend time outdoors creating another relationship with a wild fox family.

And you would like Me to sign that?

I would. So much. I know You could…You can do anything. 

I Am going to sign this slip for you. But before you go, I have something else for you. It is a whole booklet, a packet, of Permission Slips. Each one is pre-signed, by Me. Each one has your name at the top–

I Give My Child Eve Permission To…

and each one has a blank space for YOU to fill in.

Pre-signed?!? How can You do that?

Because I know you, I watch you, I trust you. You aren’t going to be selfish or foolish or hurtful with these slips. If anything you will try to overwrite your name with someone else’s, and give your blessings away. But these are written with indelible ink. These are for you.

God, the longer I hold on to these slips, the thicker the packet becomes. It is literally growing thicker in my hand by the second, as I am thinking about what these might look like. 

Yes, these are for your lifetime. You need a lot of slips, yet! There are a lot of field trips to come, a lot of adventures to have, a lot of books to read–and write–still in store. You are always asking for permission, even if you don’t ask aloud. So I want you to settle this in your heart, and this is a way you can do that. My Answer to you is Yes. The Answer is Yes; what is the question? Because I know who you are, and how you ask. So go live some Yes! Take My Permission and run with it! See where this leads you. The world awaits, and a beautiful, wondrous, alive world it is.

Wow, God, Permission Slips!! Thank You! 

Oh Very Young

Tonight I drew in my gratitude journal instead of writing out my list; I had so many gratitudes, and suddenly I didn’t want to rank-order or even number them. So I drew them as balloons. Fun. Somehow that little exercise just enhanced the feelings I was having, not only of gratitude, but of joy and of hope, too. So here is a question. It’s a life question, but also (for me) a business kind of question too. I view art, artistry, creative expression as essential. And when I say essential, Lord, I mean absolutely necessary for a full life. Just as our bodies have to have air, and have to have water, and have to have nourishment, and in that order, I think our souls have to have artistry. And not just our own expressions, but appreciation of others’ artistry too. Is that why drawing out the balloons made me feel more deeply?

You were more aware of your feelings, drawing them, because writing comes more naturally to you. As a writer and as a speaker/storyteller, you turn to words first and often. Drawing is not your natural first means of expression, so you were actually paying more attention drawing than you might have paid, writing.

But it wasn’t artsy, Lord — more cartoonish than anything. Like a very young child might do.

Exactly! “Like a very young child might do.” That is the whole point for you now, to connect with Eve-as-very-young-child. You are unlearning much from those years, and we will be replacing your unlearning with new learning, and new freedoms of expression you may not have enjoyed when very young. When did you quit drawing?

Gosh, I started to quit in early grade school. My pictures weren’t good enough. They were graded poorly–I mean, I got poor grades on them. I either didn’t fill up the paper or the proportions were all wrong. I learned early that I couldn’t draw, that I couldn’t be an artist. Then when I was just a little older, but still elementary school, I tried to paint the birds in my favorite bird book, and my mom’s art teacher found a lot to criticize in them. And she was partly correct; I mean, looking back at them later, I saw right away the flaws she had pointed out to my mother. But I never heard how to fix those flaws and pretty soon I just gave up. It was about that time that words took over, I think. I began to write more and eventually I never drew again, not really. 

Until…

Until I tried, at various times in adulthood, sometimes on my own, sometimes under the guidance of real artists! What I finally realized is that if I wanted to truly hone my skills at drawing, I could. I did have some innate ability, but what I lacked at that point was time. Rather than spending time learning how to draw, and then beyond that, perhaps to learn how to paint, I chose to spend that time, or that percentage of time let’s say, outside, camera in hand. I don’t regret that choice. I love the outdoors and photography gives me the means to get out there. 

But despite the evidence from your adulthood that you can, in fact, learn to draw and that you do, in fact, have some ability in that area, you still see yourself and name yourself as someone who can’t draw. The picture we form of ourselves as young children often persists despite evidence, sometimes overwhelming evidence, to the contrary.

Lord, why are You so interested in these vignettes from my childhood? Why do we keep going back there?

Because your stress, anxiety and fear responses all have roots there. You think you are reacting to stimuli in your present, but I tell you, you are responding to old, old triggers. If you can let Me gently remove the layers hiding those old triggers, they will, one by one, lose their power in your life.

Gosh, God, that would be wonderful. Even though the thought is just a little scary.

Don’t be afraid. That is why I said “gently.” We will never move at a pace beyond what you can absorb and find healing. The idea here is restoration and renewal, and in some cases, transformation, not more stress or anxiety. We will only move as fast as healing allows. So be patient with the process and patient with yourself. And let yourself have fun with this, as you did tonight, drawing out your gratitudes. Pay attention to every prompt or impulse, no matter how small it may seem–or how silly. This is actually going to be a wonderful and wondrous journey for you. And the end result will free your Storyteller, too. Ah, that made you smile!

Good grief, yes. I would love that. So my Storyteller is constricted by…

How can you write for children when you won’t let yourself play? Think about that a while. I have so much still I long to show you. Wonder will be the Door.

Thank You, Lord. Again.

Playtime

Lord, a friend of mine who is visiting the beach posted something extraordinary today, extraordinary in its simplicity, its innocence, and its honesty. She said she asked You to play with her today, at the beach. Now why didn’t I think of that?!? Why hasn’t the whole world thought of that? What parent doesn’t play with his or her kids? Even animals teach their young by playing! And yet I never, not once, thought of asking You to play with me. I’m sorry, God — it never occurred to me, and it never occurred to me that You would want to.

Remember just yesterday I said My challenge is to approach each of you on your own terms, in ways that you can receive from Me best? For all you have grown, and all your stretching into new realms of experience of My Love and My Presence, still you tend to be very serious, extremely so at times. You take life seriously! Life is serious business! You love to laugh, you love to make others laugh in an easy, gentle way…but your over-arching view of life is serious, even somber, not playful. You take responsibility seriously, you take your relationships seriously, you take your work seriously, and you take your time with Me seriously. This is part of why recess was hard for you as a child. This is why you struggle with all those creative exercises in your favorite books that ask you to dream a little, play a little, exercise some frivolous imagination. It is why, despite loving it, you abandoned most good fiction as somehow unfit for the limited reading time you have. Instead, you try to read books that are scholarly in some sense, designed to teach you something, increase your knowledge or skill or performance. Little One, you do very little for the pure fun of it. Your quest to find and make meaning has led you to profound insight at times, yet you have forgotten what little you once knew about playtime.

Here is a proposal for you. Why don’t you think about what playing with Me would be like for you? Why don’t you try to imagine a scenario in which pure, holy play was not only allowed, but encouraged? Why don’t you imagine, just for a minute, opening a serious-looking engraved invitation, in which I, the God of the Universe, invite you, the Serious Scholarly Sage, to come out and play? Can you do that? Will you do that? I tell you the truth: your best imagery thus far happened when you were closest to My playful heart. My heart that delights to delight you. So let Me ask you one more time: can Eve come out and play?

Gosh, God, honestly, I don’t know. But I am willing to try. If it is okay with You, I think I would like to try Easter Sunday.

It’s a play-date, then. And there is no better day–you’ll see!

Unbridled Joy

I am way over three pages, playing catch-up. And You would say…

You are still so rule-bound. Julia Cameron advises three journal pages. Louise Hay devises a number/color system. You tend to adapt to a lockstep pace—and then you hate it. You chafe at it. You need flexibility, you need freedom, to thrive. You keep turning yourself into a caged animal, into a circus performer. No, no, a thousand times, no. For all the Yes I have spoken over and into your life, this is My grand No.

But…but don’t I have to have a schedule? A routine? Especially now?

Your schedule leaves no room, no time, for surprises. For serendipity. For spontaneity. For play. And thus, very little opportunity for genuine creativity. You are living in a sandbox when I have given you the beach. You are living in a playpen when I Am giving you the world, My world. Look every day for your larger purpose. Look every day for My Presence, manifest. That is what the hearts are about, signs you can share. You won’t have the same set schedule every day, and you are going to love that. Let yourself love that. And yes, it is okay to have some time both at the house and outside by yourself—how else will great songs and stories get written?

We are not abandoning Eve the Photographer, Eve the Image-maker. But finally after decades, you will, your life will, integrate all of you, all of your talents and gifts, all your creative expressions and longings. No longer will worry or even concern about financial solvency dominate your thinking and feeling. As that becomes a non-issue, your mind and heart shall be freed to be creative, wildly passionately joyously creative! Joy is contagious. And My broken world needs it. That is your job. That is what you bring to the table. Unbridled (see the imagery? horse running free?) joy. You can have peace and passionate joy all at once. And this is the year you will experience and exude both, in spades.

Follow Me

Lord, this morning I had a choice. I could rush off to church or I could sit here with You. Last week I felt the need to be in community, but this morning I felt I needed this most, being unrushed here, with You.

Ours is not a cookie-cutter relationship, a one-size fits all, follow this recipe, relationship. The Old Testament said, essentially, follow these precepts. But in the New Testament, what do I say? Follow Me. Come with Me.

The church has in large part taken New Testament principles and made new precepts to follow, and overlaid those on top of the Old Testament laws—not the ceremonial laws, those the church has replaced with ones of its own. To the extent a community of believers or any church institution is focused on precepts, that is the limit of the depth of relationship with Me they encourage.

To Follow Me is to engage in a dynamic relationship even more complex than any earthly one, for I Am both Parent and Brother, I Am Lover and Friend, I Am Defender and Protector. You know nothing quite like it on earth. Your best earthly relationships mirror one facet of what it means to be in relationship with Me, and that is what I am calling you, calling all of you, to.

How do you bond on earth? You spend time. You pay attention. Other than the parent-child relationship, which begins with the parent as giver and child as receiver, but then grows over time into mutual ways of giving and receiving, the best earthly relationships are reciprocal.

Freedom to be yourself

I am loving the Quiet right now…but I need to feed the dogs. And drink a smoothie. And then I will try to come back here. I sense You have something to say, and I don’t want to miss it. ……… So, God, what would You say? What are my priorities, today?

You have a need to be right. Let go of that need. It dates back to your father.

You mean, I have to be wrong?

No. I mean, you can be free. Free of the burden of having to prove yourself, over and over and over. Free of the secret fear that you are wrong, intrinsically “wrong” — that nothing you do is ever really right, is ever enough, is ever good enough. That is the root. Really, it is the root of much that burdens you, that weighs you down, that causes your anxiety. It is the sense that the one who should know is always saying “no”– always denying your ideas, your thoughts, your opinions, your accomplishments.

I, your Father-God, am Oh-so-proud of you. See? That makes you cry.

I, your Father-God, love you so much–as you are. I love your “quirks”– I made them. I sculpted your personality as surely as I formed your body. Your passions, your loves, your compassions, your zeal, your humor, your gifts–all that makes you “you,” I love. I beam over. I delight in. You have inspired, creative ideas all the time. We–you, and the God of the Universe–are “in cahoots.” In collaboration to make the part of the world you touch more beautiful, more joyous, more peaceful, more free. Today,  I free you.

Freedom

I realize I want some magic something—a word, a book, a gift—to unlock the gate for them. With one, it seems like a door, and with another, it seems more like a gate, something that can be seen over and through. Is this even possible? Is there such a key? Can I myself open these barricades for them?

Even if you opened the barricade, each one still has to look outside and choose freedom. They have to choose to step beyond their current boundary. You can offer keys, you can open doors, you can even dismantle walls, but until they step, take a step, take some steps, there is nothing you can really do—except keep modeling life as it is meant to be lived. Keep calling them out.

Lord, how do I do that? I am trying to inspire emotional health. Don’t they need You to heal them?

 They do—they desperately need Me to heal them. But this kind of healing is a partnership. I will give them strength, and courage and enthusiasm and vision, everything they need, once they take steps toward that wholeness.